My nightmare dissolves into sheer terror.
“I forbid you.”
And his touch disappears from my forehead, but his hand rises, and I watch while Brody flicks his hand like he’s swiping left on a screen. The knife changes to Lawson’s headstone, changes to Hendrix burning in his office at Noire, changes to Ryder’s mask, changes to Dominic’s blanket, changes to Raney’s baby, changes to Heidi’s kittens, changes to Tristan’s face on a billboard.
I can’t keep up with the constant changes—I’m trapped, locked in a world of pain and anguish as his message echoes through me: It’s them or me. Fear coils inside my chest, tightening like a vice. Pain radiates outward, sharp and relentless, as if I’m being stabbed over and over.
I look down. Blood covers me head to toe. At the centre of my body, everything is peeled back—exposed and broken open. My heart, shredded and black with grief, is the only thing left inside.
I scream at the darkness that circles me, hearing Brody’staunting. ‘I forbid you’. Over and over like birds twittering at dawn.
A light flickers next and a mirror appears, suspended in the air.
My reflection stares back at me for a long time. Eventually, she raises her hand as if to reach out to touch me. She starts to lean forward, but her hand slams into a barrier.
The image of her, or me, gets lost under aged cracks, like thick spider webs until there’s nothing to see and nothing to hear.
And then, from out of nowhere, a long thin Medieval sword starts to spin on its axis. The faster it spins the more it glows. Light bounces like diamonds caught in sunlight. It spins faster, it grows and grows until it explodes.
I gasp, bolting upright. My heart is in my throat, hammering so hard I have to open my mouth to stay quiet.
Dominic settles his hand over the curve of my butt, his warmth chasing the last of the cobwebs from my mind. “You okay?” he asks quietly as he leans up.
I reach around, kissing him softly as I answer. “Go back to sleep. I’m fine. Bad dream, but I know you’re here.”
He pulls me down with him, his arm over my shoulder, his palm over my heart. Dominic waits until it’s stopped racing before he kisses my shoulder, then lifts the blankets up so I can get out of bed.
Every day, I feel myself getting stronger, and my pack keeps doing little things like what Dom just did, as confirmation they see it too. Before, he would have gotten out of bed and woken the others. Now though, he doesn’t do that unless I ask.
Pulling on one of Hendrix’s Noire hoodies, his thunderstorm scent wraps around me. Strangely, tonight, perhaps because of my nightmare, he smells more like the time after aviolent thunderstorm. I might be reading into it wrong, but still, I soak in the comforting promise my Alpha brings.
Like Dominic, Hendrix and Ryder would be up with me if I asked. But right now, I’m happy being alone. I need to be too.
The only lights in our home come from the twinkling skyline. Grabbing my phone and a blanket, I slide open the balcony doors. The view pulls me closer, the cityscape and the fresh air a reminder of the freedom that awaits.
By no means am I a hostage or living in fear, but I know I’m also not living without caution or restraints. The wind blows across my face, whipping my hair, and the chill nudges me back toward the corner of the outdoor sectional. It’s so comfortable that I’ve fallen asleep on it more times than I can count—especially when the warm sun hits just right at certain times of the day.
Curling up in the blanket, and tugging the hood up to cover my hair, I pull up the app Hendrix put on my phone, the one that tracks Brody. I can see his general proximity. Flicking through the report for the past few weeks, it’s evident it’s become somewhat of a game to Brody. Taunting me, testing how close he can get before we act.
I’m blessed to have a pack near me, behind me, around me. I am safe. That’s not what haunts me—what if because I have an aversion to violence and in between Brody’s sick game of testing our boundaries, he’s falling into the same pattern with someone else? What if that someone else was similarly locked by his Alpha bark in a situation no one was aware of? What if they had no one to save them?
Once an abuser, always an abuser.
There’s so many reports and studies detailing the absurdly high probability that not only will an abuser strike again, but they’ll do it more frequently, more violently too.
While I’m working on myself, it’s clear Brody isn’t. Andin a lot of ways, I knew that would be the case, but I couldn’t have given him a window of opportunity to get help. How I handled him—setting up clear and obvious boundaries via the restraining orders and legal checkpoints was important to me, for me. Now that I’m safe, getting therapy and forging my own way, I feel an obligation to every other potential victim who crosses the asshole’s path.
Decision made, my heart is heavy, but my soul is lighter.
Shedding the blankets and Hen’s hoodie, I climb back into bed, reclaiming my spot between Dominic and Hendrix. Their hands instinctively find me, each of my mates holding me tight and chasing away the chill.
I trail my finger over Hendrix’s face. His eyes are open, and he watches me carefully. Not assessing me, but he’s looking at me with tender love in his eyes. He knows. How, I don’t know, but he does.
“Do you want to be there?” he asks softly. His voice is deep, his Alpha instantly awake and ready to defend and protect.
I nod my head, and Dominic kisses my shoulder while Ryder squeezes my hand.
Staring into the mirror, I see the detachment in my eyes and feel it in my emotions. Gone are the days when I’d leave myself vulnerable around people I don’t trust.
